Elf of Rohan
by Thundergirl54
Summary: Verya is an elf, and Eomer's second in command. With Saruman's forces closing in, she is banished along with the riders of Rohan. She will fight to the death for the country she loves. Her tale is one of adventure, loyalty and perhaps… love. Legolas/OFC.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter of my newest story. Please, enjoy. I own nothing except what you don't recognise.**

* * *

Chapter 1- Banished

The black stallion shifted in his stall as his rider tightened the girth around his belly. 'Easy Warrior.' His rider murmured. The rider's name was Verya, a female elf. She was also the Captain of the Rohirrim, under Éomer, the King's nephew. But she was trusted in the court, and that was what mattered. Verya checked her horse's tack once more, and her own armour and weapons, before she led him out of his stall, and the stables, and into the courtyard.

Out in the courtyard other horses and riders were gathering. A selection of the Rohirrim were riding out from Edoras to look for their prince, Théodred, who had been missing, with a patrol, for three days. Éomer was directing the men around and turned to Verya when she approached. 'Are you ready to go?' He asked.  
'Yes, we are.' She replied, referring to herself and Warrior.

'We must hurry, the prince could be in danger.' Éomer turned and mounted his horse, Firefoot. Verya put her foot in the stirrup of Warrior's saddle, and pulled herself onto his back, as the other riders did the same. Éomer led the riders out of Edoras at a canter, taking the path Théodred would have taken.

On the banks of the Isen River the bodies of men, horses and Orcs lay slewn in the rain. The sound of horses approaching was the only other sound. Éomer led the Rohirrim to the river. He stared in horror for a moment. 'Théodred.' He murmured. 'Find the King's son!' He ordered. The riders quickly dismounted from their horses and began to search the battle ground.  
As Verya checked every man in Rohan armour, her hands became coated in blood. She paused at the river to rinse her hands and heard one of the men. 'Mordor will pay for this.'  
She rose. 'These Orcs are not from Mordor.' She corrected, turning one of the creatures over to prove her point, revealing the white handprint.

'My Lord Éomer! Captain Verya!' Another man called. 'Over here!'  
Éomer rushed to the rider's side. 'He's alive!'  
Verya grabbed Firefoot's reins and led him to Éomer. 'But not for long.' She pointed out.  
Éomer nodded and lifted Théodred onto his horse, before mounting himself. 'We ride for Edoras!' The other riders quickly mounted back onto their own horses and rode from the river bank.

The riders rode swiftly across the plains of Rohan. The only hope for Théodred was for him to reach the healers in Rohan quickly. Even then, there was much doubt that he would survive many more days, for his condition was critical. Éomer and Verya rode at the head the group, Éomer carrying Théodred, Verya making sure that both Firefoot and Éomer did not get too tired, and checking that Théodred was still alive.

Back in Edoras, Éomer quickly took Théodred to the healer's wing, even he doubted that he could be saved, but he had to try, for the King was sick, very sick. His mind had been poisoned by the wizard Saruman and his Servant Gríma Wormtongue. He would listen to no one not even his own nephew.

Shortly after returning to Edoras, Verya went with Éomer and his sister Éowyn to see the king. 'Your son is badly wounded my lord.' Éowyn said.  
Éomer stepped forward. 'He was ambushed, by Orcs. If we do not defend our country, then Saruman will take it by force.'  
'That is a lie.' A greasy voice echoed from the shadows, and Gríma Wormtongue stepped forward. 'Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally.'  
'Maybe once, but no longer does he hold ties of friendship with Rohan.' Verya spoke up.  
The king mumbled incoherently as Gríma leaned in. 'Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked, unchallenged, killing at will.' Éomer challenged. 'Orcs bearing the white hand of Saruman.' He dropped a helmet to the ground.  
'Why do you lay these troubles on an already troubled mind?' Wormtongue hissed. 'Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent, your warmongering.'

'Warmongering?' Éomer questioned. Suddenly he lunged forward and pinned Wormtongue to a pillar. 'How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price, Gríma? When all the men are dead you would take a share of the treasure?'  
Wormtongue's eyes flicked to where Éowyn was walking away. Éomer tightened his grip on Wormtongue. 'Too long have you watched my sister. Too long have you haunted her steps.'  
Wormtongue relaxed as booted footsteps echoed through the hall. First Verya and then Éomer were grabbed roughly by guards. 'You and your captain see much, Éomer son of Èomund. Too much.' Wormtongue snarled. 'You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan, and all its domains, under pain of death.'

The two Rohirrim struggled against their captors. 'You have no authority here. Your orders mean nothing.' Éomer yelled.  
'Oh, this order does not come from me.' Wormtongue reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of parchment and opened it up. 'It comes from the king. He signed it this morning.'  
The guards dragged Éomer and Verya from the hall and down to the courtyard, where they were dumped on the ground. Éomer helped Verya to her feet and looked around the courtyard, where many of the Rohirrim were waiting, along with Firefoot and Warrior. Silently the two mounted their horses and led the Rohirrim from Edoras.

* * *

**Please review. x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews guys. Here's chapter 2, enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 2- Turning of the tides

With the Rohirrim behind them Éomer and Verya rode across the plains of Rohan. Determined to put many leagues between themselves and Edoras. All the men were wishing that they did not have to leave, but their loyalty to Éomer, Verya and the true Rohan was too strong for them to remain behind in Edoras.

As night drew closer Éomer made the decision to call a halt and setup a camp for the night. The riders dismounted from their horses. Verya undid the buckles that held Warrior's saddle on, sliding it off, and switched his bridle for a halter. She tied the rope on the halter around a branch and went to join Éomer in building a fire. 'How far do you think we should travel?' She asked him.  
'I don't know.' He admitted. 'I guess we just follow the Isen.'

Under the stars that night the Rohirrim slept. All except one. Verya sat on her sleeping mat, staring out into the distance. Rohan had been her home for as long as she could remember, leaving it behind was hard for her. Suddenly something moving caught her keen eyes. She rose to her feet and watched it. Orcs. They had just stopped moving at the edge of Fangorn forest. She hurried to where Éomer slept. Crouching down she shook him awake. 'Éomer, Éomer get up.'  
The Rohirrim leader slowly got his feet. 'What is it Verya?'

'Orcs, on the edge of Fangorn.' She replied. 'We can take them by surprise.'  
'Get the men up.' The two of them began to shake the men awake; those who got up first began to saddle the horses.

'Verya, take half the men and approach from this side, I'll take the others around the base of the hill and attack from the other side, stop them from escaping.' Éomer ordered.  
Verya nodded and mounted Warrior, taking her selection of men directly towards the Orcs camp, while Éomer led his men down the hill.  
Verya urged Warrior into a gallop, the other Rohirrim with her doing the same. They had the element of surprise on their side. The orcs did not realise they were being attacked until the Rohirrim were right on top of them. Verya threw her spear into an orc, and drew her sword, slashing through the orcs. Her eye caught something running towards the forest, but her instincts told her that it was not orcs, so she left it.

The battle did not last long, the Rohirrim numbers were too great for the orcs and surprise was on their side. When the last of the orcs had been dispatched, Éomer ordered that the carcasses be piled and burnt. 'Take some rest.' He told the riders. 'We continue in the morning.' He put a hand on Verya's shoulder, who looked up at him. 'Good spot.' Verya smiled.

The next morning the riders remounted their horses and left the battleground behind them. With Éomer at their head the Rohirrim rode on. But events were about to take an unexpected turn.  
Two hours after leaving the battleground the shout of a man caught their attention. 'Riders of Rohan, what news from the mark?' At the signal from their leader, the riders followed Éomer up the hill to where three figures stood. Within moments they had formed a circle around them, spears pointing in.

'What business does an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!' Éomer ordered.  
The dwarf spoke first. 'Give me your name, horsemaster, and I shall give you mine.'  
Éomer handed his spear to Verya and jumped down from Firefoot. 'Careful.' Verya whispered. The elf's eyes flicked up to look at her.

'I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.' Éomer warned.  
The elf whipped out his bow and aimed it at Éomer. 'You would die before your stroke fell.'  
The riders tensed, their spears moving closing to the trio at the centre of the circle. The man stepped forward and lowered the elf's arm. He then turned to Éomer. 'I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn; this is Gimli son of Gloin, and Legolas of the woodland realm. We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden your King.' He introduced himself and his companions.  
'Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe.' Éomer reached up and removed his helmet. 'Not even his own kin.' The riders relaxed and raised their spears. 'Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed lordship over his lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that we are banished. The white wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked, and everywhere his spies slip past our nets.' Here he glared at Legolas.

Aragorn spoke up once again. 'We are no spies. We track a party of Uruk-Hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive.'  
'The uruks are destroyed; we slaughtered them during the night.' Éomer informed the group.  
'But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?' Gimli questioned urgently.  
Seeing the confused look on Éomer's face, Aragorn stepped in. 'They would be small, only children to your eyes.' Verya stared at him, remembering what she had seen running into the forest during the night.  
Éomer shook his head. 'We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them.' He gestured to where the pile was still smoking in the distance.  
'Dead?'  
Éomer nodded sadly at Gimli. 'I am sorry.' He gave a short sharp whistle. 'Hasufel, Arod.' Two horses came forward. 'May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell.' He replaced his helmet and mounted Firefoot. 'Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It is forsaken in these lands.'  
Verya noticed him preparing them to move out, so leaned over to whisper in his ear. 'I'll catch you up, I'll be quick.'  
Éomer nodded. 'We ride north!' He and the other riders rode off, leaving Verya and the three travellers.

Holding Warrior back, so he didn't race after the others, Verya turned to the three. 'I think they ran into the forest. I saw something enter there, during the battle, that wasn't an orc.' She loosened Warrior's reins, allowing him to gallop off, to catch up with the other riders.

* * *

**Please review. x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews. All elvish is in italics.**

* * *

Chapter 3- Return to Victory

Verya caught up with the rest of the Rohirrim on the banks of the River Isen, where they had stopped to water their horses. 'Is everything alright?' Éomer asked.  
'Yes.' Verya replied. 'I just wanted to explain something to them, it doesn't matter.'  
'Well, if you're sure.' Verya nodded and Éomer let it drop, going on to explain where they were going. 'We'll follow the Isen north, until we reach the borders of Rohan, then we shall take a route around Rohan and then on to Eriador.'  
'And from there?' Verya asked.  
'Wherever the winds take us.' Éomer replied. 'We're outcasts now; we have no home until our banishment is lifted.'

The Rohirrim camped on the banks of the Isen that night, protected on one side by the river, and on the other by the cliffs.  
They continued by the river for another two days. But a shadow was growing in Verya's mind, something was drawing near that meant Rohan was in danger. After hearing her concerns Éomer decided they could nothing. They were still banished from Rohan, they could not return until the king had lifted that banishment. Verya argued that if the king died Éomer would become the new king, but nothing would sway the leader of the Rohirrim.

As each day passed the Rohirrim rode across Rohan. When they reached the border of Rohan there would be no turning back. About a week after their encounter with the three travellers they encountered yet another new figure. The riders were taking a rest at noon, when a lone rider came over the brow of the hill. The riders tensed, not knowing who this newcomer was, until Éomer waved them down. 'Stand down!' He called to his men.  
The rider approached the Rohirrim; he was dressed in bright white robes and rode a pure white horse unrestrained. 'Éomer, son of Èomund.' He announced. 'You knew me once as Gandalf the Grey. Now I stand before you as Gandalf the White. I come before you on behalf of King Théoden of Rohan. Saruman's forces march to destroy the people of Rohan. The king has led them to Helm's Deep, but they have no chance. If you truly value Rohan in your hearts, then ride with me to the king's aid.'

Éomer beckoned Verya to the side for a moment. 'I'm sorry I doubted you, my friend.'  
The elven captain put her hand on her leader's shoulder. 'There is nothing to apologise for Éomer. You followed your heart like anyone would, but now it is not the time to linger in the past, but to move to the future.'  
Éomer surprised Verya suddenly by pulling her into a brief hug. He then turned to his men. 'We ride for Helm's Deep!' A cheer went up, before the men hurried to ready their horses and armour. Gandalf nodded at Éomer.

It took the best part of an hour for the riders to pack up prepare for the battle that was to come. Éomer spent much of this time planning with Gandalf. They decided that first Gandalf then Éomer would announce themselves and the riders would come to their side when called. They would also have to ride through the night; they needed to be at Helm's Deep by dawn.  
Led by Éomer and Gandalf the Rohirrim rode swiftly across the plains of Rohan, towards Helm's Deep. Their horses blowing heavily, their cloaks rippling out behind them, they were an army riding to war.  
The riders rode past many villages that day. Some lay in ruin but in many the people came out as the banners of Rohan travelled past. The children tried to keep up with the galloping horses, but quickly fell behind. It lifted Verya's heart to see children so carefree in this time of war, but it made her sad that they had to see the world that Middle Earth had become.

Through the night the Rohirrim rode. The power and strength of their warhorses saw them still going strong as the first signs of dawn made their appearance on the horizon. Éomer and Gandalf rode on ahead, to carry out the plan they had made. The other riders waited at the base of the hill, their horses blowing and stamping their feet. 'Théoden King stands alone.' Gandalf said.  
Éomer rode to the wizard's side. 'Not alone.' He drew his sword. 'Rohirrim!' the riders urged their horses to gather behind their leader. The scene that met their eyes was one of devastation. Uruks surrounded Helm's Deep. A small band of riders was near the gate. 'To the King!' Éomer cried. The riders charged forward, down the hill.

As the last of the riders crested the hill, the sun rose behind them, blinding the uruks. This worked in the Rohirrim's favour, for the uruks were reluctant to fight when they could not see. Verya's blade cut uruks down on every side. In the group who had ridden out from Helm's Deep she saw the man and the elf they had encountered on their flight from Edoras.  
The uruks began to flee from the battle, they were completely overwhelmed. They fled towards the line of trees. 'Stay out of the forest!' Éomer yelled, circling Firefoot. 'Keep away from the trees!' as if on cue the trees began to groan and sway. The faces of the riders said it all. The forest was dangerous.

Warrior danced underneath Verya as she rode into Helm's Deep alongside the soldiers. A sense of relief had washed over everyone. This battle, at least, had been won. As she slid from the saddle she heard someone calling her name. she turned around, just as Éowyn barrelled into her. The two females hugged each other for a moment. 'I'm glad you're ok.' Éowyn exclaimed.  
Verya laughed. 'I'll always be ok.'  
Éowyn released the elf and Verya removed her helmet, letting her dark plait fall free. 'Come, I'm sure my uncle wishes to apologise to you. And I haven't seen Éomer yet.'

As they approached the main hall Éomer joined them, embracing his sister. 'time to face the music huh?' he said.  
'We've done nothing wrong.' Verya reminded him. 'Don't worry, my friend.' The three of them laughed as Éowyn pushed open the doors and they entered the main hall. Théoden was there, talking to Gandalf and three others who Verya recognised. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. Théoden turned to the two riders and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. 'I thank you for returning in our greatest need. You had every right not to return and yet you did. Rohan is in your debt and that of your riders.'  
Éomer was the one to reply. 'Rohan is our home, my lord; we would gladly give our lives to defend her.'

A short time later Verya was in the armoury, removing her armour. As she struggled to undo the straps that held her chest piece in place, a pair of soft smooth hands knocked her own away and undid the straps with ease. She looked around to see Legolas. '_Gen hannon._' She said softly.  
The wood elf smiled back. '_Man eneth lín?_' he asked.  
'_Im Verya._' The elven captain replied.  
'_What is an elleth doing in the service of Rohan?_' Legolas asked.  
'_This was the choice I made many years ago_'Verya answered. '_And one I do not regret._'  
'_I am not saying you should regret it, just that it is unusual… and honourable._' He added as an afterthought.

The two elves continued to talk, unaware that they were not alone. A certain dwarf stood in the doorway to the armoury, watching the exchange, and even though the elves could not see what they had, the dwarf could. 'There is something there, something more than just friendship.' He muttered to himself, before stomping away.

* * *

**Please review. x  
Elvish: _  
Gen hannon- thank you  
Man eneth lin- what is your name?  
Im Verya- I'm Verya._**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Journey to Isengard

The day after the battle of Helm's Deep Verya went with Éomer, Gandalf, Théoden, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn to Isengard. The previous day she had spent some time getting to know Legolas, it had been a long time since she had last spoken to an elf, and she found him easy to talk to. Verya rode Warrior alongside Gimli and Legolas, who were on Arod. Gimli and Aragorn shared a knowing look. It seemed like everyone, except the two elves, could see that there was something between them.

As they topped the hill that the Rohirrim had appeared on the previous day, they stopped and looked out over Middle Earth. 'Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift.' Gandalf said. 'The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little hobbits. Somewhere in the wilderness.'

The group of riders left the valley that Helm's Deep lay in and rode towards Isengard, Gandalf at their head. Warrior's iron-shod hooves thudded on the ground as they cantered on. They didn't slow until they reached the edge of Fangorn Forest. 'Watch your step here.' Gandalf said. 'The ents have awoken, do not anger them.'  
Gandalf led the way into the forest on Shadowfax, followed by Théoden on Snowmane, then Aragorn on Brego who was followed by Verya on Warrior, then Legolas and Gimli on Arod and finally Éomer on Firefoot. The riders let the horses pick their own way through the forest, trusting them not to trip. The trees around them groaned as they passed. There was a hairy moment when Warrior slipped down a mall bank, but Verya kept her seat and allowed him to correct himself, giving him a pat on the neck.

The small group of riders emerged from the trees to the sound of laughter. Two hobbits sat on wall food surrounding them and pipes in their mouths. One of them got to his feet. 'Welcome, my Lords, to Isengard.' He pointed up at the tower.

'You young rascals!' Gimli called out from behind Legolas. 'A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you, feasting and… and smoking!'

The hobbit who still sat answered him. 'We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good'  
'Salted pork?' Gimli questioned.

Gandalf shook his head in disbelief. 'Hobbits.'

The hobbit who stood up spoke again. 'We're under orders, from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard.'

'Well then, you two had better hurry up.' Gandalf called. The two hobbits quickly extinguished their pipes and put their cloaks on.

After quick introductions, in which Merry apologised to Verya for realising she was female, pippin mounted Brego behind Aragorn and Merry mounted Warrior behind Verya.

Gandalf the led them through a gap in the wall and onto the grounds of Isengard. The horses were, at first, slightly reluctant to go into the water, but when Shadowfax continued they followed. An Ent waded through the water to greet them. This was Treebeard. 'Young Master Gandalf. I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master. But there is a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower.'

'Show yourself.' Aragorn muttered.

'Be careful.' Gandalf reprimanded. 'Even in defeat Saruman is dangerous.'  
'Well, let's just have his head and be done with it.' Gimli suggested. Verya rolled her eyes.  
'No. We need him alive. We need him to talk.' Gandalf told them.  
Saruman appeared on top of the tower. 'You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?'  
'We shall have peace.' Théoden began.  
'Sire?' Éomer questioned, while Verya stared at him.  
The king ignored them both. 'We shall have peace. We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace.' The passion he had for Rohan was on fire as he spoke.

'Gibbets and crows? Dotard!' Saruman then turned his attention to Gandalf. 'What do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess. The key of Orthanc. Or perhaps the Keys of Barad-dur itself along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!'  
'Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you can save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's counsel.'  
'So you have come here for information. I have some for you.' From the folds of his cloak Saruman held up a palantir. 'Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage.' Gandalf urged Shadowfax forward a few paces, away from the others. 'His attack will come soon. You're all going to die. But you know this, don't you, Gandalf? You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor.' All eyes turned to Aragorn. 'This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death.'

'I've heard enough! Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob.' Gimli whispered to Legolas, who reached for an arrow.  
'No. Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared.' Gandalf's words stopped Legolas.  
'Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!' Saruman sent a giant fireball towards Gandalf. The horses all jumped back as flames surrounded Gandalf and Shadowfax.  
As the flames died away the group could see that Gandalf was completely unharmed. 'Saruman, your staff is broken.' The wizard's staff shattered into several pieces.  
Another figure appeared behind Saruman, Gríma Wormtongue. 'Gríma, you need not follow him.' Théoden suggested. 'You were not always as you are now. You were once a Man of Rohan. Come down.'  
Wormtongue bowed and began to turn away, before Saruman's voice stopped him. 'A Man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-master. You are a lesser son of greater sires.' Verya was really beginning to agree with Gimli on shooting the wizard.  
Théoden's voice remained gentle as he spoke again. 'Gríma, come down. Be free of him.'  
'Free?' Saruman cried. 'He will never be free.'  
'No.' Wormtongue said defiantly.  
'Get down cur.' Saruman backhanded Wormtongue across the face, sending him to the ground.  
'Saruman! You were deep in the enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know!' Gandalf continued to appeal to him.  
'You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here.' Suddenly Wormtongue appeared behind Saruman, dagger in hand, and began to stab him in the back. Both Verya and Legolas released arrows from their bows at the same moment, both striking their mark. Wormtongue staggered away from Saruman, who fell from the tower.

There was a sickening crunch as Saruman landed on one of his own machines. All the riders winced. 'Send word to all our allies, and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike.'  
'The filth of Saruman is washing away.' Treebeard said. 'Trees will come back to live here. Young trees. Wild trees.'  
Pippin slid off Brego, landing in the water. 'Pippin!' Aragorn called.  
Pippin bent own and picked the palantir up from beneath the water. 'Bless my bark!' Treebeard exclaimed.  
Gandalf rode to the hobbit's side. 'Peregrin Took! I'll take that, my lad. Quickly now.' Pippin handed the palantir to Gandalf who wrapped it up in his cloak. Pippin remounted Brego behind Aragorn and Gandalf told to them to head for Edoras.

* * *

**Please, please review x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for reviewing**

* * *

Chapter 5 – A Union Forged

In Edoras work was underway to set the hall up for the celebrations that would take place that night. The first thing Verya did was return to her rooms in the Golden Hall. Her quarters were like many of the others. A bedroom, with a balcony joined to a bathroom. She took her armour off and released her hair from its braid and let it fall around her shoulders. She took a quick bath, over a week away from Edoras meant that she desperately needed one. Afterwards she went out onto the balcony and leant her forearms on the railing, staring out over the plains that she had patrolled for many years.

A short time later she heard a knock at the door. 'Come in!' she called.  
The soft footsteps that entered the room told her that there was only one person it could be. 'Legolas.' She greeted.  
'Good day Verya.' He replied.  
She turned to face him. 'How did you know where I was?' She asked curiously.  
'Éomer told me where to find you. He said something about knowing I would go looking for you.'  
Verya laughed and rolled her eyes. 'He likes to make a big issue out of many things.' She said in way of an explanation.  
'I thought you may like to take a ride with me.'  
Verya raised her eyebrows. 'A ride really? Is that a code for something?'  
'I'm being serious.' Legolas replied. 'Would you like to take a ride with me?'  
'I'll meet you in the stables.

Not long after Verya entered the stables to find Legolas with both Arod and Warrior already saddled and waiting. 'Lead the way.' Legolas said, mounting Arod. Verya swung herself up onto Warrior and led the way from the city.  
Once a fair way from the city the two slowed their horses to a trot. 'So tell me how you ended up in Rohan.' Legolas suggested.  
Verya took a deep breath. 'I was born in a village called Tumba, or the Deep Valley. I grew up there until I was 25, that was when we were attacked by orcs. All those under 75 were sent with the Lord and Lady's governess. But our party was attacked by more orcs as we made our way to Rivendell. I was separated from the rest and I just ran. I had no idea where I was going, or if I was going to survive. But I ended up in a village on the borders or Rohan. For about 2 years I was looked after by a family with their own children. That was when the king of Rohan at the time arrived in the village searching for new soldiers. I was introduced to him and he took a liking to me. He brought me back to Edoras and put me in the care of his sister. In time I showed an interest in fighting, and so I was taught the ways of war. Then I saved the prince's life from a party of orcs. My reward was the position of captain of Rohan under the heir to the throne.' She finally looked up at Legolas. 'I've been in Rohan for 150 years. I never discovered what happened to those who fled Tumba with me. I like to think that they all survived and made it to Rivendell, perhaps even managed to return to Tumba.'  
'Did you ever think of going back?'  
'I don't think I could. If Tumba lay destroyed it would break me. If it survived and the people continue to live there, nothing would be the same. Perhaps I will return when the war is over.'  
'Perhaps you will, and perhaps I will be at your side.' Legolas said.  
Verya glanced over at Legolas. 'I want to show you something.' She kicked Warrior into a gallop, heading west.

After about an hours gallop the pair arrived at a small copse of trees. 'We'll have to leave the horses here.' Verya said when they reached a small path that entered the trees. She jumped down off Warrior and looped his reins over a branch. Legolas dismounted from Arod and did the same.

Verya led the way into the copse. Eventually the trees opened out into a small clearing. A stream flowed into a small lake the clearing was like a meadow, dotted with many flowers. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, giving a truly magical appearance. Legolas looked around in amazement. 'It's beautiful.'  
'I thought you might like it.' Verya replied. 'You're the first person I've brought here.' She sat on the ground and began to pull at the grass.  
Legolas sat next to her. 'Why?'  
'It just seemed so magical that I never thought anyone would appreciate it the ay I did.' She looked up at Legolas. 'That was until I met you.' Legolas raised his eyes to meet hers. He reached out a hand and placed it on her cheek.  
Suddenly his lips were on hers. She closed her eyes as she melted into the kiss. After a moment he pulled away and scrambled to his feet, moving away across the clearing. 'I am sorry.'  
Verya also rose to her feet. 'What are you apologising for?' she asked. Legolas turned to look at her. He strode back the clearing and caught her lips in his once again.

That evening in the hall all the men were gathered. Éowyn approached Théoden, bearing a goblet, which she handed to him before moving to the side. Led by Aragorn everyone rose to their feet. 'Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!' Théoden announced.  
'Hail!' Came the reply.  
The crowd began to disperse into many groups. Verya saw Éomer setting up a barrel on a table. 'Are you doing what I think you're doing?' she asked him.  
'It depends what you think I'm doing. If you mean setting up for a drinking game, then yes. Gimli has challenged Legolas.'  
Verya raised her eyebrows. 'Now that could be interesting.' She said.

They were soon joined by a group of men and Legolas and Gimli. Éomer handed them both a mug of ale. 'No pauses. No spills.'  
'And no regurgitation.' Gimli added.  
'So, it's a drinking game?' Legolas asked.  
Éomer nodded. 'Last one standing wins.' Gimli said, before gulping down his ale, while Legolas took a more cautious approach.

Some time later mugs were littered around. Legolas and Gimli both reached for another mug. 'Here, here. It's the Dwarves that go swimming with little, hairy women.' Verya scrunched her face up in confusion and disgust.

Legolas raised a hand to his face. 'I feel something. A slight tingle in my fingers. I think it's affecting me.'  
Gimli laughed. 'What did I say? He can't hold his liquor.' Suddenly his eyes crossed, and he passed out, falling backwards off his chair.  
'Game over.' Legolas concluded.

* * *

**Please keep reviewing. x**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- The Start of Events

'I have to go.' Verya said to Legolas the next morning. 'I have my orders and I have to follow them, whether I like it or not.' She adjusted the straps of Warrior's bridle.  
'And if the beacons are lit?' Legolas was trying to persuade Verya not to go on patrol with a company of the Rohirrim.  
'Look, don't argue Legolas. I have to go.' Verya took Warrior's reins and led him out of the stables. In the courtyard she mounted and placed her helmet on. She had twenty riders under her command, heading out on patrol. She kicked Warrior on, out of Edoras.

Three days later the twenty one riders rode back into Edoras. As they dismounted in the courtyard Verya realised there were no soldiers around. She ordered her men to stay where they were and hurried into the Golden Hall. The hall was completely empty. Hurrying through the halls to her quarters, she ran into nobody. She entered her quarters, hoping to find some clue of where everybody had gone. She was in luck. On her bed was a letter. It was from Éomer and only contained four words. _Dunharrow to Minas Tirith. _  
Verya was frozen for a moment, before she bolted; racing out of the Golden Hall, back to her men.  
'Captain?' one of the men questioned, when she appeared again.  
She quickly remounted. 'We ride for Dunharrow!' she ordered, leading the men on.

The riders rode fast, not slowing; they hoped to reach the camp by nightfall. The only sound was the snorting of the horses and the pounding of hooves. It was a long ride but they were going as fast as possible. As night began to fall, Verya knew they were getting close to the camp. The temperature was falling and visibility was low. Being an elf, though, Verya was able to guide the riders on a safe route.

Finally the camp was in sight. The camp was split into two parts. The first was at the base of the mountain, for the additional men from around Rohan. The second was on a large ledge up the mountain and was for those from Edoras. The riders trotted through the lower part of the camp, attracting attention from those already there. Once in the higher part of the camp the riders immediately dismounted, their horses were exhausted.  
A few other riders came and took the horses, they realised that the riders who had just come in were not in the best way to sort their own horses out.

Verya went to report to Théoden. When she left the royal tent she found the men settling around the fire. Éomer was nearby and she went to him. 'Glad you came.'  
'Did you really expect us not to?' Verya grinned.  
Éomer clapped the elf on the soldier. 'You never know. If you're looking for Legolas he's near his tent, six over.'  
'You know me too well.'

Legolas was standing by his tent, looking out over the camp. He felt guilty, he regretted arguing with Verya, for stopping her from doing what she loved doing. He was so caught up in thoughts that he did not hear the approach of the captain. '_It's not your fault._'  
Legolas swung around. '_I tried to stop you doing what you're supposed to be doing. What you want to be doing.'_  
Verya laid a hand on his shoulder. _'Don't beat yourself up. It's not going to help anything.'  
'I just wish, I could turn back the clock, prevent myself from saying the things that I did.'  
'The past is the past, Legolas, don't remain there, look to the future.' _  
Legolas wrapped his arms around her. _'Thank you.' _ He released Verya and then something else caught his eye. 'Where's Aragorn going?' the man in question was saddling his horse.  
He released Verya and then something else caught his eye. 'Where's Aragorn going?' the man in question was saddling his horse.  
'Why don't you find out?' Verya gestured to Arod's saddle. Legolas grinned and grabbed it.

Together Verya and Legolas, with Arod, made their way through the camp. They caught up to Aragorn as he bumped into Gimli. 'Just where do you think you're off to?' the dwarf asked.  
'Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli.' Aragorn said.  
Legolas stepped forward, leading Arod. 'Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?'  
'Might as well accept it. We're going with you, laddie.' Gimli finalised.  
'Are you coming too?' Aragorn asked Verya.  
'No chance, I still have a duty here.' She looked around at each of them. 'Good luck.'

As the riders disappeared down the Dimholt road the men began to talk. 'What's happening?'  
'Where are they going?' one asked.  
'Why do they leave on the eve of battle?' another questioned.  
'He leaves because there is no hope.' Gamling told the men.  
Théoden pushed his way forward. 'He leaves because he must.'  
'Too few have come; we cannot defeat the armies of mordor.' Gamling pointed out.  
'No, we cannot.' Théoden agreed. 'But we will meet them in battle nonetheless.'  
Éomer joined them. 'We must ride at dawn. We cannot let the forces of Sauron go any further west.'  
'Their loss may leave us with fewer men, but we must try, if we don't then Middle Earth will fall.' Verya spoke up.  
Théoden turned to Verya and Éomer. 'Come.' They headed back to his tent, to plan their attack.

Morning dawned, and with it the anticipation and fear of battle. The men were quiet. Gamling was right; they had no hope of victory. Verya strapped her armour on and saddled Warrior in silence, her eyes often wandering to the Dimholt road.  
Then the horns were blown, the signal for them to ride. Verya and Éomer were with the king. 'We must ride light and swift.' Théoden instructed. 'It is a long road ahead and man and beast must reach the end with the strength to fight. They mounted up onto their horses and trotted through the camp. There they came across Merry. 'Little hobbits do not belong in war master Meriadoc.'  
'All my friends have gone to battle. I would be ashamed to be left behind.' Merry said sadly.  
'It is a three day gallop to Minas Tirith and none of my riders can bear you as a burden.'  
'I want to fight.' The hobbit insisted.  
'I will say no more.' Théoden urged Snowman forward and Verya and Éomer followed.

As they rode through the camp Éomer called the men to arms. 'Form up! Move out! Form up! Move out!'  
'Ride! Ride now to Gondor!' It was the king's turn to rally the men.  
As they galloped out of the camp they were joined by men from every corner of Rohan. At the head of the army Verya, Éomer and Théoden led the way, heads held high, even though they knew they were likely to die.

Two days the army rode on, barely stopping at night. Like the king had said they were riding light and swift. They carried only the necessities. At evening of the second day they stopped to rest. Scouts had been sent on ahead and Éomer was coming back from getting their report. 'The scouts report that Minas Tirith is surrounded. The lower levels in flames. Everywhere legions of the enemy advance.'  
Théoden looked stressed.' Time is against us. Make ready!' he ordered.  
Verya quickly swung herself into the saddle and trotted to Éomer's side. He nodded at her, comforting her in a way. 'Prepare to move out!'  
'Make haste! We ride through the night.' The king flung his reins over Snowmane's head and mounted up. The horns were blown, gathering the men up.  
They rode out of the rest area; those who were not ready would have to catch up.

* * *

**Please review.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-Sacrifices have to be made

Minas Tirith lay before them, ruined and burning. From all sides orcs advanced, legions of them. The sun rose, burning away the cloud the Sauron sent ahead of his army. Each of the Rohan leaders, Gamling, Grimbold, Éomer and Verya, along with the king, each had their own company. Behind them the Rohan riders lined up, their horses snorting and stamping. Théoden stared at what lay before them for a moment, and then turned his horse to gallop along the front. 'Éomer, Verya take your éoreds down the left flank.'  
'Flank ready.'  
'Gamling, follow the King's banner down the centre. Grimbold take your company right, after you pass the wall. Forth and fear no darkness.' The king then turned to his men. 'Arise, arise riders of Théoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered, a sword-day, a red-day, ere the sun rises!' the riders in the front rank lowered their spears and, drawing his sword, Théoden galloped down the front, his sword rattling against the spears. 'Ride now! Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending!' He peeled off, his back now to the riders. 'Death!'  
'Death!' The riders shouted back.  
'Death!'  
'Death!'  
'Death!'  
'Death!' The riders yelled one last time.

'Forth Eorlingas!' the horns sounded the charge, as the king started forward. Gradually they built up speed, until their horses were galloping at their fastest. As they bore down on the orcs they were fired upon by archers. While some riders were taken down, there were too many for the orcs to handle.  
It seemed like an age before the Rohan riders smashed into the orc army, but in reality it wasn't very long at all. They ploughed through the enemy, taking out any orcs that lay in their path. Warrior's hooves pounded on the ground as his rider took down any orcs that came at them.

The sounds, smells and sights of battle were everywhere, but the trained soldiers were used to it. They had not been fighting for more than ten minutes, when the orcs began to flee. 'Drive them to the river!' Éomer commanded his part of the army, Verya among them.  
As they galloped to finish them off, their horses played up and the riders drew them in. it wasn't over yet. Oliphants made their way past the fleeing orcs. 'Re-form the line!' Théoden ordered. 'Sound the charge, take them head on!' the charge was sounded once again and the riders surged forward.

Verya ducked under the tusk of an Oliphant and drawing her bow she began to shoot at the archers on top of the beasts. Despite the Oliphants being pierced by many arrows, none fell, their skin was too thick. Then Éomer had an idea. He threw his spear at the driver of one of the Oliphants. The driver fell, but the reins did not drop and the Oliphant was pulled round in a circle, getting crushed under another beast. Verya and a small group of riders held their own against orcs who had returned, as behind them another two Oliphants fell.

The battle raged on, with no sign of victory for either side. Orcs fell under the weapons of the Rohirrim but the Rohirrim fell to the Oliphants. Then disaster struck. The screech of a nazgûl reached the ears of the riders. It was Théoden it was aiming for, taking him and Snowmane up in its jaws. Verya could not help, her back was turned and she was too far away. Her sword cut through orcs and her bow took down archers on the back of Oliphants. If they did not have a miracle, and soon, then the victory would go to the orcs.  
But luck was on their side. From the river they came. Ghosts. The ghosts of the mountain, coming to fulfil their oath. They drove through the orcs without hesitation.

Then the Oliphant that Verya was alongside fell, Warrior jumped out of the way, but stumbled, throwing Verya to the ground. Both horse and rider scrambled to their feet . Warrior galloped off while Verya began to fight. She let out a cry of pain as an orc got through her defences and caught her left shoulder with its blade. There was little fighting left to do, the ghosts had finished off the orcs and their allies, and that included those in the city.  
The riders who were left began to clear up. They were searching of any survivors of the battle and those who had any chance were taken straight to the healing wing in Minas Tirith.

A cry of pain and anguish reached Verya's ears. 'No!' it was Éomer. Verya rushed to his side, in his arms was his sister. Putting her fingers to the girl's neck, she felt a pulse. 'She's still alive, Éomer.'  
The soldier had tears running down his face as he handed his sister to another rider. He then spotted the wound on Verya's shoulder. 'You're hurt.' He pointed out.  
'Not badly.' Verya reassured. Her eyes were drawn to another. 'Oh, no!' she hurried forward and crouched next to the body of a horse. Snowmane. The king lay beneath the body of his loyal horse, his eyes closed and chest unmoving. Éomer came to Verya's side. He stared at the body of his uncle, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. 'I'm sorry.' Verya mumbled, knowing it could never be enough. Éomer put his hand heavily on Verya's good shoulder supporting both himself and the elf. Tears ran down the cheeks of the two riders as the crouched on the battlefield, comforting each other.

As night fell the pair finally rose. The king's body was taken to Minas Tirith, the war was not over yet. When it was the king would be returned to Rohan and buried in the tombs of his forefathers. 'I am not ready.' Éomer said as they made their way through the quiet, ruined streets.  
'Yes, you are.' Verya disagreed. 'You fight for what is good and right. You help those who need it. You have the qualities of a good, just, fair king. Do not doubt yourself.'  
'When did you become so wise?' Éomer said, almost jokingly.  
'I am elf.' Was Verya's only reply.

In the main hall of Minas Tirith Éomer dragged Verya to the healer's wing, literally. He wanted her shoulder seen to and he wanted to see his sister. Verya sat by his side as her wound was cleaned and bandage. The healers were doing all they could for Eowyn.  
When Aragorn came to see to Eowyn, Verya left. As she passed through the halls she was greeted by Rohan soldiers and men of Gondor alike. Both armies had suffered major losses, but more was still to come.  
She bumped into Legolas near the main hall. 'You're injured.' He noticed the bandage around her arm.  
'It's nothing.' Verya insisted. 'I'm fine.'  
Legolas suddenly pulled her into a hug. He saw the tears in her eyes and knew she needed a shoulder to cry on. In his arms Verya burst into tears, everything from the past few hours catching up to her. Eowyn's injury, the king's death.

* * *

**Please review.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8- Together a stand must come

Éomer had told Verya that Eowyn was on the road to recovery, she would be fine, she just needed time to heal. Two days after the battle at Minas Tirith Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Éomer and Verya were gathered in the throne room of Minas Tirith. 'Frodo has passed beyond my sight.' Gandalf said. 'The darkness is deepening.'  
'If Sauron had the ring, we would know it.' Aragorn pointed out.  
'It's only a matter of time. He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping.' Gandalf replied.  
'Let him stay there, let him rot. Why should we care?' Gimli put in.  
'Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and mount doom.' Gandalf shot back. 'I've sent him to his death.'

'No.' Aragorn disagreed. 'There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time, and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that.'  
'How? Gimli questioned.  
'Draw out Sauron's armies.' Aragorn replied. 'Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the black gate.'  
'We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms.' Éomer spoke up.  
'Not for ourselves. But we can give Frodo a chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves.' Aragorn responded.  
'A diversion.' Legolas put in.  
'Certainty of death, small chance of success. What are we waiting for?' Verya had a temptation to go hit Gimli for that comment.  
'Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait.' Gandalf tried to deter Aragorn.  
'Oh, I think he will.' Aragorn turned to Verya and Éomer. 'can you assemble the armies to march at dawn?' Both Rohirrim nodded. 'then do it, we need all the men we can get.'

In the city the two split up to find all the men of Gondor and Rohan they could. Word quickly spread and by noon most men had come forward to offer their services to the cause. Those who were not soldiers, or who need new equipment, were sent straight to the armoury. By sundown they were ready to march when needed.

That night Legolas and Verya sat side by side outside the hall. 'if I thought it would do any good I would ask you to stay here, but I know it won't.' Legolas said.  
'you know why I can't. I serve Rohan and I refuse to let them ride to battle without me.'  
'is there nothing I can say that will make you stay?'  
Verya chuckled. 'not a chance.'  
'thought not.' Legolas mumbled.  
Verya bumped into Legolas's shoulder and then rested her head. 'are you nervous?' she asked  
'I'd be a fool if I wasn't.' he replied. He rested his head on top of Verya's and put an arm around her shoulders.

With Aragorn in the lead the united army left Minas Tirith. Verya rode alongside Éomer, who had Merry behind him. The horse's hooves chimed as they made their way towards the black gate. It was a one and a half day ride. Fortunately these one and a half days were uneventful.

Finally the army rounded the cliff and came to the black gate. The horses and soldiers were shifty and nervous, and who could blame them. There was no sign of life on the gate or in either of the towers. Eventually Pippin grew impatient. 'where are they?' he asked.  
Aragorn nudged Brego forward, closely followed by Éomer and Merry, Gandalf and Pippin, Legolas and Gimli, Verya and a Gondorian standard bearer.  
In front of the gates, they halted. 'Let the Lord of the Black land forth!' Aragorn called out. 'let justice be done upon him!'  
The gate slowly creaked open to reveal a single rider on a diseased horse.

The horse and rider halted. 'My master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome. Is there any in this rout with the authority to treat with me?'  
Gandalf was the one to speak up. 'We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return.'  
The rider turned to look at the wizard. 'Old Greybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee.' From the front of the saddle he produced a small mithril shirt. Sized for a hobbit.  
'Frodo. Frodo!' Pippin cried.  
the rider threw the shirt to Gandalf, who told Pippin to be silent.  
'The halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did.'

Gandalf handed the shirt to Pippin, who held it tightly. the rider laughed wickedly, as Aragorn moved forward. 'And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade.'  
Suddenly Aragorn drew his sword and sliced off the rider's head. 'I guess that concludes negotiations.' Gimli stated.  
Aragorn turned to them once again. ' I do not believe it. I will not.' Then the gates opened fully, a great host of orcs marching forth. 'Pull back! Pull back!' he ordered. The riders turned their horses and cantered back to the army.

The men were shifting, as if the wished to flee. 'Hold your ground! Hold your ground.' Aragorn ordered. He began to pace in front of them. 'sons of Gondor, of Rohan. My brothers. I see in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shield when the age of men comes crashing down. But it is not this day. This day we fight. By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, men of the west.' The men drew their weapons as Brego reared and turned to face the gates once again.

* * *

**Please review. x**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9- The end of an age

Those on horses had dismounted, and their horses sent away. Their innocent blood did not need to be spilled. The orcs spilled out of the gates and surrounded them, they were vastly outnumbered, there was no way that they could win this battle, not without a miracle. It was silent for a time, then Gimli spoke up. 'Never thought I would die fighting side by side with an elf.'  
'What about side by side with a friend?' Legolas replied.  
'Aye, I could do that.' Gimli finished.  
Éomer put his hand on Verya's shoulder. 'Thank you for everything my friend, my captain, my sister.'  
'It is I who should thank you, my brother.' She replied, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Aragorn raised his sword, ready to charge, but then for no apparent reason lowered again. He stared, transfixed into the eye. He turned to look back at his friends. 'For Frodo.' Then he charged.  
The hobbits chased after him, closely followed by everyone else. They attacked anything that wasn't on their side, getting caught up in the melee.  
Verya soon lost her companions, it wasn't hard, the orcs were too many. Her sword took down anything she could, anything that she wanted to kill. Suddenly something grabbed her free arm, and she moved to attack. Her blade came into to contact with another, an elvish blade, Legolas. She looked at him in confusion. Before she could say anything he crushed his lips against hers, as if it would be their last kiss. Breaking away he said one last sentence, before disappearing back into the battle. _'I love you.'_  
She stood frozen on the spot, when Éomer's voice shocked her back to reality. 'Verya, look out!' She swung around, coming face to face with an orc. She had no time to react, when the orc plunged it's blade into her stomach, below her armour. She faintly heard Éomer's cry. 'No!' Her vision grew fuzzy as she fell to her knees, sword dropping from her hand.

A screech from overhead announced the arrival of the nazgûl. Then Pippin said something that lifted everyone's hearts. 'The eagles are coming'!' The nazgûl were another foe they did not want or need, now they would be no threat.  
Below the airborne battle, the united armies fought on, but for how much longer they did not know. Eventually, if the battle continued, they would have no chance at all. Éomer fought his way to his captain's side, disbelieving. He dropped his sword and shield next to Verya's sword and gathered her into his arms, holding her close. Blood soaked through her tunic, onto his hands. Her lips moved and he leaned in to hear what she was saying. 'Tell… tell Legolas that I… I love him.' Her eye's closed and she slipped into darkness. With shaking hands he undid her helmet and pulled it off her dark hair, he could not lose another, not so soon after his uncle.

Suddenly the eye cried out, contorting as if in pain. Mercifully the orcs began to flee, leaving their opponents behind. Then Sauron's tower began to collapse and before it hit the ground, the eye exploded, sending shockwaves through the ground. People began to cheer as the ground of Mordor began to collapse, taking the orcs with it. The Black Gates tumbled into the ravine. Amazingly from where the men were stood and back, the ground stayed intact. Éomer stayed where he was, Verya in his arms, tears flowing ceaselessly down his cheeks. One of the eagles landed next to Gandalf, and seemed to converse with him, before Gandalf mounted and the eagle took off towards Mount Doom.

The men began to search for survivors, those who could be saved, but still Éomer did not move. Legolas joined Aragorn. 'Have you seen Verya?' he asked worriedly. Aragorn shook his head. Both looked around and Aragorn's eyes rested on Éomer holding someone in his arms. At first he thought it was one of his men, but on second glance he realised the armour was wrong, it was not the armour of a simple soldier. He broke from Legolas's side and ran to the other king. In the man's arms was an elf, her tunic, the ground and Éomer's hands covered in blood, her blood. When his best friend bolted from his side, Legolas watched him in confusion, then realised what was happening. Aragorn quickly cut the armour from Verya's body. The gash in her side was deep and long. Legolas's vision was blurred by tears as he brushed a few stray hairs from Verya's face. Éomer looked up at him. 'She…she wanted me to tell you… that she loves you.' Éomer's voice was choked as he spoke. The tears in Legolas's eyes spilled over. 'We never even had a chance.'

Aragorn ripped off a long piece of his tunic and bound it around Verya's wound. 'She's barely holding on.' He told the two. 'If she is to survive we must get her to Minas Tirith as soon as possible.'  
'You mean she's still alive?' Éomer asked.  
'Only just.' Aragorn replied. 'Legolas, if you leave now, she may still be saved. I would say you could go, Éomer, but you need to see to your men.'  
Éomer nodded, understanding. Legolas lifted Verya into his arms and made his way towards Arod, who had returned with the other horses. Éomer caught his arm. 'Take Warrior.' He gestured to Verya's black stallion. 'He's faster.' Legolas gently placed Verya in the saddle and Éomer held her in place while the elf mounted. 'Look after her.' He said.  
'I will.' Legolas promised, before kicking Warrior on, Verya tight in his arms.

Warrior ran fast over the ground, towards Minas Tirith, never slowing. He knew something had to be wrong if he had two riders on his back. Warrior and his two riders galloped into the white city. In the courtyard of the white tree, Legolas called for the healers, who came running. He dismounted from Warrior and gathered Verya in his arms. He explained what had happened to the healers as they led him to the healing wing. Once there, they pushed him out, they did not need him in the way.

* * *

**Please review. x**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – A King is Crowned

Legolas sat in the corridor, head in his hands. He heard Aragorn sit down next him. 'It's my fault. I distracted her. I took her focus away from the battle.'  
'Do not blame yourself, my friend. It could still have happened. She would not want you to blame yourself.' Aragorn said gently. Legolas rose to his feet and began to walk away. 'Where are you going?'  
'I need some space.'

Legolas made his way down to the stables. As he was stroking Arod a black stallion poked his head over his stall door. Legolas left Arod and went to Warrior. The horse nudged the elf's shoulder. Legolas scratched Warrior's forehead. 'You're worried too.' He murmured. Warrior butted his chest and Legolas grabbed a brush and entered the stall.

Verya opened her eyes and had to blink several times. A dull pain throbbed through her side. She turned her head and saw Éomer sat by the window. 'What day is it?' she asked, her voice cracking, throat dry.  
Éomer started and looked around. He crossed the room and gave her some water, which she drank greedily. 'It has been three days since the black gate.' He replied. 'And you are lucky to be alive.'  
'What happened?'  
'You were stabbed.'  
Verya rolled her eyes. 'I know that bit, I meant after.'  
Éomer chuckled. 'We won. Sauron is gone, forever. We can finally live in peace. Aragorn is to be crowned soon and I will be once we return to Rohan.'

'Am I allowed to get up?' Verya questioned.  
'If you feel like it, and I know there's no point arguing with you. I'll wait outside while you change.' Éomer rose and left the room.  
As she changed Verya inspected her wound. A long scar ran from her left hip all the way to her mid-stomach. She ran a finger along it, a jagged ridge in her otherwise smooth skin. She dropped her tunic down and secured her belt around her waist.  
Verya re-joined Éomer outside the room. 'Where do you want to go?' He asked.

They were interrupted by Aragorn. 'It's good to see you on your feet, Verya.' He greeted a worried look on his face.  
'Is everything alright?' Éomer asked.  
'Have you seen Legolas, no one has seen him since yesterday evening.'  
'Who was the last person to see him?' Verya asked.  
'Myself, I spoke to him and he said he needed some space.' Aragorn replied. 'He didn't say where he was going.'  
'We'll help look for him.' Éomer volunteered. Aragorn nodded and the three of them made their way to the hall.

The three split up. Acting on a hunch, Verya headed for the stables. Arod's stall yielded no results, but Warrior's did. The black war-horse was lying in the stall. At his side, sleeping was Legolas. Verya had to stifle a giggle. Unbolting the stall she stepped inside. Verya crouched down at Warrior's shoulder, placing one hand on her horse's withers; she shook Legolas with the other hand.  
Legolas jerked awake, accidently knocking Verya to the floor. It was a couple of moments, before Legolas realised what had happened. Pulling the elleth to her feet, he crushed her to his chest. 'Don't ever scare me like that again.'  
'I'll try not to.'

A few days later crowds filled the top of Minas Tirith as Aragorn was crowned by Gandalf. 'Now come the days of the king.' Gandalf announced. 'And may they be blessed.'  
Aragorn rose and turned to address the people. 'This day does not belong to one man but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace.' The crowd applauded, which faded away as the new king began to sing. '_Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta_.' He made his way through the crowd, greeting friends along the way. Eowyn and Faramir, Éomer and Verya, until he reached Legolas. '_Hannon le._'  
Legolas stepped aside to reveal two dark haired elves. The male motioned the female towards Aragorn, who caught her in a passionate kiss. They carried on through the crowds until they reached the hobbits, who bowed awkwardly. 'My friends.' Aragorn greeted. 'You bow to no one.' He bowed, on one knee, to them and everyone else followed his example.

Verya led Warrior into the courtyard of Minas Tirith. They were returning to Rohan. The hobbits were saying goodbye to Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Faramir and Eowyn. They were accompanying Verya and Éomer as far as Edoras, before continuing onto the Shire. Legolas approached Verya. 'I had this made for you.' Into her hand he placed a silver necklace, with a green jewel leaf hanging from it. 'So you don't forget me.'  
Verya smiled. 'I'll never forget you. You'll see me again.'  
'I'd better.' Legolas took the necklace from her palm and fastened it around her neck. 'Goodbye.' The elves shared a kiss, before Legolas boosted Verya into the saddle.  
Éomer turned to his captain. 'Are you ready to go home?' Verya nodded. Éomer in turn nudged Firefoot forward, and they left Minas Tirith.

* * *

**Please Review. x**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 –Time to Remember

'You'll see me again.' Verya promised, as she adjusted the pack on Warrior's back. It had been two years since the war and Éomer had finally convinced her that maybe it was time she returned to Tumba to find her family, let them know that she was alive. He had also released her from her duty as Captain of the Rohirrim, gifting her with Warrior. 'And if Legolas comes looking for me, tell him where I am.'  
'I will.' Éomer agreed. 'Take care.'  
'Will do.' Verya checked all the buckles on Warrior's tack one last time and swung herself into the saddle. For the first time in a long time she was not dressed in Rohan clothes. Instead she was dressed down in forest green breeches, black boots, light blue top and a brown tunic with a green cloak. Her weapons were strapped to her body and her hair was tied back in the traditional elvish fashion.

Éomer walked alongside horse and rider as they left Edoras, his new captain would never be as good as Verya, but he knew he had to let her go. Once outside the gate Warrior sprang forward into a gallop. Verya let her horse run, his mane in her face and her hair blowing out behind her. They were heading North-west, towards the Gwathló River. From there they were going to follow the river north. Despite the many years that had passed Verya still remembered where the village lay.  
Warrior's hooves thudded on the ground as he cantered on. The journey would take them several days, but Verya was confident that they would be safe. Orcs that still roamed were leaderless and rarely confident enough to attack.

After a week and a day's travel the pair topped the hill to the valley where Tumba lay. The village was on the edge of a lake. But it was no longer a village, over the years Tumba had grown into a city. People regarded Verya with curious, but suspicious, stares as she led Warrior through the streets.  
In the main square stood the village hall along with the inn and stables. She was about to make for the stables, when something caught Verya's eye. In the middle of the square, not far from the elleth, was a group of elven boys about Verya's age. A smaller boy was cowering against a wall as the older boys seemed to be bullying him. Verya looped Warrior's reins over a post and approached them. 'What do you think you're doing?' she questioned.  
The seemingly leader of the group looked her up and down. 'Get out the way.'  
He tried to push past her, but Verya shoved his shoulder. 'I think you should answer the question.' She said dangerously.  
The group laughed. 'And why would I do that?'  
'Do you think it's funny to bully a child. Can't you see he's scared?' Verya challenged.  
'And you should be too.' The boy cracked his knuckles.  
'I don't think so.'

The boy threw a punch at Verya's head, but Verya ducked and the boy darted around. She quickly drew her sword, pointing it at his chest. 'What is going on here?' A voice broke the tension. An elf dressed in armour and a guard's uniform was nearby.  
'Sir!' The boy started quickly. 'This girl just attacked me and threatened me.'  
Verya opened her mouth to protest, but she was beaten to it. 'That's not true Ada!' The child that the boys had been bullying spoke up. 'They were bullying me and she stepped in to stop them.'  
'Why you little.' the boy lunged for the child, but Verya tackled him to the ground.  
'Enough!' The guard yelled. 'Beleg, you have been warned before, this is your last warning.' He spoke to the boy, before turning to Verya. 'As for you, you may want to watch yourself, don't get yourself into trouble, but thank you for standing up for my son.'  
'No child should have to put up with something like that.' Verya replied.  
'You're not from around here, are you?'  
'In a sense, no sir.'  
'What do you mean by that?'  
'I mean I grew up in Rohan, but I was actually born here.'  
'What is your name?' The guard asked.  
'Verya.' She replied simply.

There was a strangled gasp from a woman who stood nearby. 'Miluiel? Is there something wrong?' The guard asked her. Verya also noticed that the young boy was clinging to her legs, indicating that he was her son.  
'Look at her, Maeglad, who do you think she is?'  
Maeglad looked Verya up and down. 'But Belletiel said she was killed.'  
'No she didn't. She said they got separated and that it was likely she was killed. But obviously she wasn't.'  
Verya looked between the two, confused. Maeglad looked back at Verya, shaking his head slowly. 'My daughter, my precious daughter.' He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Verya, finally understanding what was happening, hugged him back.  
When Maeglad released her, Miluiel came up and hugged her daughter too. Releasing her she turned to her son. 'Rissien, come her and meet your big sister.' The boy ran forward, into Verya's arms, who hugged him, laughing. Patrick and Natalie joined in, and the reunited family rejoiced.

It turned out that Maeglad was actually the captain of the guard and Tumba was no longer on its own, it had become a kingdom. Villages lay within a two day ride and they were all ruled by a king. King Ainion was a kind man, as he had been when he was Lord when Verya was young. He welcomed Verya with open arms, and after discovering the she was the former captain of the Rohirrim, quickly asked that she join her father on the guard.  
Rissien was 44, just ten years short of becoming of age. When he grew up he had already decided to join his father, and now older sister, on the guard.  
Miluiel was the royal seamstress and also made the uniforms of the guard.  
As time passed the family shared their pasts with each other. Verya discovered that Tumba had been saved by a group of elves travelling from Rivendell to Mirkwood and they had taught the men how to fight. As the village slowly grew into a city some residents chose to leave to become farmers, shepherds and others away from the city, but wanting to remain under the command of King Ainion the kingdom had been created. The flag that flew above the royal household was blue with a gold crescent moon and silver wave crashing down. The guard's uniform consisted of a light elven chest plate and vambraces, with a tunic of the same blue as the flag and with the moon and wave and a helmet that could be fastened to the belt when not in use.

* * *

**Please review. x**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - Your Past can Entwine with Your Future

20 years later

Maeglad watched the potential new recruits of the guard of Tumba train. He was now the trainer of the guard. He had handed his mantle of captain of the guard to his daughter, with her brother as her second in command. They were out travelling between all the villages of Tumba, to check the state of things. They were due back sometime that day. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn and horses hooves. But this wasn't the horn of Tumba. He hurried to the main square, in time to see a group of elven riders. They bore a light blue standard with a single emerald leaf. The standard of Mirkwood. King Ainion stepped forward. 'King Thranduil, to what do we owe to this pleasure?'  
The lead rider dropped down from his horse. 'My son and I come searching for, what we believe to be, one of your subjects.'  
'Perhaps I can help, do you know the name of this subject?'  
'Verya.' It was not Thranduil who replied, but another platinum blond elf, his son.  
Ainion looked to Maeglad. 'She's not here.'  
'Where is she?' Legolas asked.  
'Perhaps we should talk inside.' Maeglad suggested. Legolas nodded, and he and his father followed Maeglad and King Ainion inside.

The group of riders galloped across the open plain. At their head were Verya and Rissien on their horses, Comrade and Wind. One black, the other dark grey, they were the only dark coloured horses, and the sons of Warrior and an elven mare. They were very different from their elven counterparts, with a much coarser bone structure. But looks can be deceiving, they were just as agile and speedy as the elven horses, and had a much higher endurance and power. Verya glanced over at her brother, like herself he held his horse's reins in his left hand and carried a banner of Tumba in his right.  
As for Verya, she looked nothing like the Rohirrim Captain that came to Tumba two decades before. As well as her Tumba uniform, her weapons had changed. Instead of the crude Rohan bow and sword she now carried a fine elven bow with blue fletched arrows, and at each hip she carried a long knife with a third across her back. And instead of wearing her hair in a braid, as she had done in Rohan, her hair hung in the traditional warrior fashion.

The horn was sounded as the gates to the city swung open and the mounted guard surged into Tumba. In the royal house Maeglad quickly excused himself and hurried into the courtyard. Verya and Rissien had just dismounted from their horses. Verya clapped her brother on the back, as they made their way to their father. Patrick embraced both his children. 'Come, we have much to talk about.'  
The conversation in the hall stopped as the doors swung open. The two kings and Legolas turned. Legolas' eyes went straight to the girl on Maeglad's left. Verya caught his eye, and grinned. 'What are you smiling about?' Rissien asked.  
'That's none of your business.' Verya replied.  
'Oh really?' Rissien raised his eyebrows, causing his sister to smack him across the back of the head.

'Alright enough you two.' Maeglad cautioned.  
Verya pulled a piece of paper from her belt and handed it to King Ainion. 'Our report sire.'  
'Thank you Captain.' He turned to Thranduil and Legolas. 'This is the captain of the guard, Verya, and her younger brother and second in command, Rissien. You two, well Verya you already know Legolas, and this is his father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood.'  
'It's a pleasure.' Verya greeted.  
'The pleasure is all mine.' Thranduil replied. 'My son has told me a lot about you.'  
'Father.' Legolas growled through gritted teeth.  
'I'm sure he has.' Rissien commented suggestively.  
Verya turned, slowly, to her brother. 'You are looking for another smack.' She warned. Rissien quickly retreated several steps.

'Well, Rissien, I could do with some help with the new recruits.' Maeglad said, catching his son's arm and leading him from the hall.  
'And we must see about getting a strong treaty.' King Ainion suggested, as he and Thranduil also left.  
Once everyone had gone both Legolas and Verya burst out laughing. 'Why do I think that was a ploy to get us alone?' Verya questioned.  
'Because it probably was.' Legolas replied, before sweeping Verya into his arms. 'I've missed you.'  
'I've missed you too.'  
Legolas put her down. 'Well, there's one thing that hasn't changed about you.'  
'What's that?' Verya asked.  
'You're still a soldier.'  
'And I always will be.' Verya finished. 'It's a part of me, a part that will never go away.'  
'That's fine by me; it makes you who you are.'

Later on Verya had changed out of her uniform and was showing Legolas around Tumba. 'What have you been up to the past 20 years then?' She asked.  
'We've been restoring Mirkwood to its former glory. It's been a long process, but it's finally complete.'  
'I'd like to visit sometime. You've seen both my homes, but I've never seen yours.'  
Legolas looked down at her. 'I'd like that.'  
A small girl came running up to the couple. She was the daughter of one of the Tumba guards. 'Captain, I picked these for you.' She held up a bunch of wild flowers.  
Verya crouched down. 'That's very kind of you Tara. Thank you.' The girl giggled and ran off again.  
'They obviously like you here.' Legolas commented as Verya rose to her feet. He took the flowers from her hand and began to tuck them into her braids.  
'When you live here you get to know everybody.' Verya replied.

* * *

**Please review. x**


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

The group of horses and riders cantered across the plains, the banners of Mirkwood and Tumba flying out behind them. Since Verya and Legolas' reunion in Tumba King Ainion had sailed across the sea and without an heir he had to make a decision to choose someone to take his place. In the end he asked Thranduil to take his place, ruling over both Mirkwood and Tumba. Thranduil in turn had asked Legolas to rule Tumba in his place. A position that Legolas treasured greatly.  
The group that was making their way through the hills was returning to Tumba from Rohan. At their head were Comrade and Verya. Verya had retained her position as Captain of the Tumba guard, even after her marriage to Legolas. The couple had married two years after their reunion in Tumba. A union that was approved by all. Old and new friends from around Middle Earth had all been present.  
The party of riders halted on the hills surrounding the city, the wind blowing in their faces and catching their hair. 'Home.' Verya murmured. Comrade, growing impatient, stamped his hoof on the ground. 'Okay, okay, we're going.' Verya laughed and patted her horse on the neck, before urging him forward.

Legolas on the city wall, looking out over the hills. His attention was caught by a party of riders on the hill. He could clearly see the banners of Mirkwood and Tumba. He laughed when he saw the black stallion grow impatient. He left the wall and hurried down to the courtyard.  
The riders trotted through the city gates. Verya was deep in conversation with one of the guards. They pulled up in the courtyard, but Comrade would not stand still. He kept dancing around, legs crossing underneath him. He was restless, he wanted to run. His ears flicked in all directions as his rider tried to calm him. 'Easy Comrade.' Having had enough he reared up on his back legs, and tried to surge forward, only to be held back by Verya.  
Legolas arrived in the courtyard in time to see Comrade rear up. He knew the horse was very energetic.  
Verya finally managed to calm Comrade enough to dismount. She jumped to the ground. 'Untack him and let him run loose, he'll come when I call, or when he feels like it.' She instructed, handing the reins to one of the horse masters.  
'Yes, my lady.'

Verya made her way across the courtyard, to Legolas. 'Horse troubles?' He asked, hugging her.  
'Why didn't I choose a nice, calm elven horse?' Verya complained as they made their way through the city.  
'Because he's a brilliant war horse?' Legolas suggested.  
'Probably.' The couple laughed. 'Well Éomer has had no orc attacks, and has heard of none from anywhere else. I think it's safe to say that Middle Earth is finally at peace.'  
'At last.' Legolas wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders, as they looked out across Tumba. Yes, it was nice to finally have peace.

* * *

**This is the end, thanks for the support. x**


End file.
